


I've Never Felt So Helpless

by Sohotthateveryonedied



Series: Whumptober 2020 [30]
Category: Batgirl (Comics), Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Blood and Injury, Dorks in Love, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Heavy Angst, Near Death Experiences, Prompt: "Wound Reveal", Protective Stephanie Brown, Romance, Stephanie Brown is Batgirl, Tim Drake Whump, Tim Drake is Red Robin, Whumptober 2020, also!! tim's cat ruby gets a mention!! good for her!!, even their scared banter is cute, i need to do another ruby fic she's a good kitty she deserves it, i will never stop being obsessed with timsteph and this fic is proof, listen under all the blood and angst they're just. they're cute okay, steph you're doing amazing sweetie, tim is bleeding out and steph has to keep him alive oh no
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:34:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27295003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sohotthateveryonedied/pseuds/Sohotthateveryonedied
Summary: “Tim.”“In fact, I think we’ve bothearneda quiet night in with food and shitty movies and snuggles and—”“Tim!”“What?”“You’re bleeding.”Tim looks down where she points at a spot on his neck, and—was that stinging sensation always there? He touches the part of his cowl that covers his neck. His glove comes away covered in blood. “Oh.” Now that he’s aware of it, he can feel blood rushing from the wound at a speed that he’s fairly certain wounds aren’t supposed to bleed at. “That’s not good.”
Relationships: Stephanie Brown/Tim Drake
Series: Whumptober 2020 [30]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948297
Comments: 9
Kudos: 232





	I've Never Felt So Helpless

**Author's Note:**

> Whump Day 30: "Wound Reveal"
> 
> Title is from "Helpless" from Hamilton!
> 
> (I was watching that episode of Grey’s Anatomy (Crash Into Me Pt. 2) when Lexie had a crush on that patient with the damaged carotid and it blew and she had to keep him from bleeding out and he eventually died and yeah. I got inspired.) (Also this is the second time I’ve cut Tim’s throat, wow. Sorry Timmy, it had to happen.)

Tim is a simple man, no matter what anyone else says.  
  
Does he fight crime in tights? Yes, and proudly. Does he guiltily watch the occasional _Riverdale_ episode because he had a crush on Cole Sprouse growing up and owes this to his prepubescent self? Obviously. Would he like to enjoy a relaxing night every once in a while, devoid of supervillains and near-death experiences? _One hundred percent._  
  
Tim has stated this precise case upwards of a dozen times tonight, yet here he is, exhausted and covered in plant matter from a fight with Poison Ivy. All because _Steph_ wanted to handle Ivy’s escape from Arkham themselves despite the fact that she and Tim _specifically_ asked for tonight off so they could have some alone time for the first time in weeks.  
  
Tim bought _sparkling cider, dammit._  
  
“You are _way_ too hung up on this,” Stephanie says, wringing out her hair from when Ivy chucked her into a pond. They stand together on a rooftop, watching the final squad car pull away from the scene. It is not nearly as satisfying as it should be.  
  
“I wanted _one_ night. _One.”_  
  
“There will be other nights, Tim. Besides, we caught Ivy before she could do any major damage. I call that a job well done.”  
  
“At the cost of our date night!”  
  
“Oh, like you’ve never canceled plans to fight crime. You’ve blown me off for supervillains plenty of times. So have I. But this time, we got to do it _together,_ which I think counts as a date night.”  
  
“It doesn’t, actually. Normal people do things like going out to dinner, catching a movie, taking romantic walks on the beach. I want to be like that.”  
  
Steph turns to face him. She plants her hands on her hips. “Tim.”  
  
“And, you know, I can’t remember the last time we got to have a date night that didn’t involve punching someone. Do you know how insane that is?”  
  
“Tim.”  
  
“In fact, I think we’ve both _earned_ a quiet night in with food and shitty movies and snuggles and—”  
  
“Tim!”  
  
“What?”  
  
“You’re bleeding.”  
  
Tim looks down where she points at a spot on his neck, and—was that stinging sensation always there? He touches the part of his cowl that covers his neck. His glove comes away covered in blood. “Oh.” Now that he’s aware of it, he can feel blood rushing from the wound at a speed that he’s fairly certain wounds aren’t supposed to bleed at. “That’s not good.”  
  
Steph is in front of him in an instant, one hand pressed against his neck and making him hiss. “How does the world’s greatest detective not realize he’s got a giant gash in his neck?”  
  
Should Tim be feeling this woozy already? It must be the adrenaline rushing out, leaving him a puppet without strings. “There was a razor vine, but I thought it missed me.” His legs shake, dangerously close to giving out. Steph takes notice and helps lower him to the ground so they’re on their knees, facing each other.  
  
“Clearly, it didn’t. Take your cowl down, let me see.” Tim obeys. Steph has to let go of the wound for a moment so he can loosen the cape from around his neck. It’s only a second, but Tim already feels warm blood seeping down his collar, soaking into the fabric of his uniform.  
  
“Shit,” Steph hisses when she gets a good look. Her hands fly back to press against the wound.  
  
“How bad is it?”  
  
“Bad.” She fumbles in her belt for a pad of gauze. She pins it to his throat, trying to keep the blood inside of him where it belongs.  
  
“It didn’t hit an artery, did it?” That would...well, it would be pretty damn bad. Life-threatening, if it isn’t already.  
  
“I don’t think so. The gash is too low.” She presses harder when blood leaks from a gap in her fingers. “It shouldn’t be bleeding this much, should it? The wound isn’t even that _big._ I don’t think your blood is clotting like it should.”  
  
Tim goes even paler than he already is. “Oh.”  
  
“Oh?”  
  
“Ivy. She sprayed me with something.” He winces as the wound throbs. “During the fight.”  
  
“Are you kidding me? You couldn’t have mentioned that earlier?”  
  
“I was busy! And I felt fine, so I figured I would run a blood test when we got back to the cave. I didn’t think she would do something to my _blood.”_  
  
“Damn it. Okay.” Steph closes her eyes, thinking. “Can you reach your communicator?”  
  
“Yeah, I think so.” Tim reaches for his utility belt, tilting his head to see better. That small motion causes Steph’s hand to slip, allowing another gush of blood to spurt from his neck. _“Shit, shit, shit.”_ She repositions, gets a better grip on the wound. “Don’t move your head.”  
  
Tim swallows nervously. “We good now?”  
  
“I think so. Just...be careful, okay? Small movements. You’ve already lost too much blood, so I want to keep you as plugged up as possible.”  
  
“Kinky.”  
  
“Shut up.”  
  
Tim manages to locate the communicator and turn it on. Just in time, too. It’s getting harder and harder to focus, the blood drying on his neck and sticking to his skin. If he wasn’t anemic before, he certainly is now.  
  
The communicator crackles. _“You’ve got Oracle. I thought you and Batgirl were off duty tonight.”_  
  
“We are,” Steph says. “Listen, can you patch me through to whoever can hypothetically get me and Red Robin to the cave as fast as humanly possible?”  
  
 _“What happened?”_  
  
“We had a run-in with Ivy. She’s taken care of, but she did something to Red. Something to keep his blood from clotting. He’s got a laceration on his throat and I’m trying to stop the bleeding, but I don’t know how much longer we have.”  
  
 _“Sending an ambulance to your location.”_  
  
“Negative. His face is uncovered, so a regular hospital is off the table. It needs to be the Batcave.”  
  
 _“Got it, I’ll transfer you to Batman. He can take you in the Batmobile. I’ll call Leslie Thompkins and have her meet you guys there.”_  
  
“Tell her to hurry.” Steph’s voice wavers, anxious.  
  
Tim wants to reassure her that he’ll be fine, but it’s getting more and more difficult to concentrate, like he’s a radio trying to tune to the right station. He tips forward and presses his forehead against Steph’s shoulder, his body sagging. She keeps him upright, careful not to loosen her grip on the gauze.  
  
Finally, the communicator beeps. _“Batman here. What is it?”_  
  
Steph runs through their situation again, leaving Tim free to drift as he pleases. Steph is warm against him, like a fresh latte. There’s blood in her hair. Tim runs his fingers through the bloody patches, trying to separate the clumps.  
  
Something prods his shoulder. “Hm?”  
  
 _“I asked how you’re doing.”_ Bruce doesn’t sound nervous—he never does. But Tim knows him better than most. He can tell when he’s worried.  
  
“I’m hanging in,” Tim manages. “How long ‘til you get here?”  
  
 _“I’m ten minutes out. You think you can hold on until then?”_  
  
“Mm-hm.” Honestly, Tim isn’t sure if he can. But at least Bruce won’t worry as much if he thinks Tim is going to be okay.  
  
 _“Batgirl, do either of you have an Ivy antidote on you?”_  
  
“I have a couple for her general toxins, but I don’t know how they’d do with this one. Should I give it a shot anyway?”  
  
 _“No, it might make things worse. Keep me updated on his condition. I’ll be there as fast as I can. Batman, out.”_ A click. Tim tosses aside the communicator, uncaring of whether he turned it off properly or not. The ground rocks beneath him, like the rooftop is floating on a roiling ocean.  
  
Steph’s free hand runs through his hair, soothing on his scalp. “Sweetie, are you still with me?”  
  
“Mm.”  
  
“Stay awake, okay? Just for a little longer.” Tim nods against her shoulder. Steph releases a breath. “Good. Now, do you think you can reach into my belt and get some more gauze? This one is soaked through.” Already? That’s a bad sign.  
  
Tim doesn’t move his head from her shoulder. “Which pocket?”  
  
“Uh...second one on the left of my right hip, I think? I usually go by muscle memory.” Tim checks the pocket and finds no gauze, but there is a stick of gum and a few rubber bands. “Next to that one, maybe?” Still nothing.  
  
“Steph, do you actually know what you’re doing?”  
  
“Look, it’s easier when I can see it, okay? Here, bunch up your cape. I can use that for now until Bruce gets here.”  
  
It takes some careful maneuvering for Tim to reach his cape without moving his head or neck, but he manages to fold it the best he can. He hands it to Steph, who brings it close to the wound.  
  
“Okay,” she says. “I’m going to switch off now. Ready?”  
  
Tim nods. “Do it.”  
  
She’s quick about it. She yanks away the soiled gauze and replaces it with the cape in seconds, but blood eagerly spills out as soon as it’s free. Tim’s vision goes blotchy, the darkness behind his eyelids sprinkled with stars. He hisses when Steph crams the fabric against the wound hard enough to make him want to jerk away. He doesn’t, though, just digs his fingers into her shoulder and takes deep breaths through his teeth.  
  
“Sorry, sorry,” she murmurs. “It’ll stop hurting in a bit.” She presses a kiss to his hair. “I’ve got the bleeding under control, I think.”  
  
“You think or you know?”  
  
“I think.” That’s not at all reassuring. Even so, Tim finds that he doesn’t mind as long as it’s Steph with him. He would gladly put his life in her hands, and now that he’s here, he’s content. He trusts her.  
  
“Tim?”  
  
“Hm?”  
  
“I changed my mind.”  
  
“On what?”  
  
“We should have done a date night instead.”  
  
Tim snorts, but it’s weak. More a huff than anything. “This isn't so bad. ‘Least we’re together.”  
  
“Yeah, covered in blood on a freezing rooftop. Very romantic.”  
  
Tim hums, presses his nose to her neck and closes his eyes. She smells like lavender. “You’re pretty.”  
  
“Stop that.”  
  
“Stop what?”  
  
“Stop talking like you’re dying.”  
  
“‘m just making an observation. You’re pretty.” There is blood covering both of their uniforms, smeared across the bat symbol on Steph’s chest. Her face glistens with sweat from the fight, and there’s a bruise on the side of her jaw. She’s still gorgeous.  
  
“You’re a dork.”  
  
Tim hums. His stomach rolls and his heart picks up until he can feel it throbbing in his skin, like his pulse is racing to get out. He squeezes his eyes shut tighter. “I don’t feel good.”  
  
“Bruce is going to be here in a few minutes. Hang in there, alright?”  
  
How much blood has he lost by now? Two pints? Three? How much longer does he have before the point of no return? Even as Steph keeps pressure against the wound, he can feel rivulets running down his neck. She can’t keep the bleeding at bay forever.  
  
“I love you...y’know that?”  
  
“Don’t say that. I’m not kidding.”  
  
“Someone should...should feed m’cat. Ruby’s tiny, but she eats a lot.”  
  
“Bruce is on his way, Tim. You’re gonna be fine. Don’t fall asleep yet.”  
  
“I’m losing blood,” he mumbles against her shoulder. “Humans...need blood to survive. ‘m gonna go into hypovolemic shock soon, and then it’s over.” He can barely lift his head now. There are weights attached to his eyelids.  
  
“Stay awake, Tim. You hear me?” Steph’s voice trembles, and Tim feels awful for putting her through this. She deserves better. “You’re not dying. I won’t let that happen.”  
  
Tim wants to reassure her, to tell her she’s right, if only to keep her from making those shaky crying noises. There are tears dripping on his shoulder. He wants to stick around, keep Stephanie from feeling the hurt that’s about to come, but his pulse is racing too quickly to keep up with blood it can’t circulate. He hears Steph’s voice somewhere above, calling his name, but she’s too far away.  
  
Tim lets himself sink into the darkness.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Steph hasn’t changed out of her uniform yet. She knows she should. She’s sticky, covered in blood that dries on her suit in rusty red flakes. The blood is thick in her hair, on her hands, soaked into the fabric over her knees. Tim’s blood.  
  
She can still feel it—feel Tim’s fluttering pulse under her fingertips, growing weaker and weaker with every passing second. The weight of him against her shoulder, slumped as if he was already dead. And then the agonizing moment where she felt him let go, sagging against her like a corpse.  
  
She wants to forget it. To forget this entire night, wipe it clean from her memory. Pretend that everything is still okay, even when it isn’t.  
  
“How are you doing?” Steph looks up at Bruce. She didn’t even hear him come in. He hands her a cup of coffee, which she takes in cold hands.  
  
“I’m fine.” Her voice suggests otherwise.  
  
“He’s going to be okay.”  
  
Steph looks back at Tim asleep on the medical cot, his skin as pale as a cadaver's. A bag of O-negative hands beside the bed, pumping blood into his body through an IV. Another IV pricks his other arm, delivering the antitoxin. He looks dead. He was unconscious for a full three minutes before Bruce arrived on that rooftop, lifeless in Steph’s arms. It was the most terrifying three minutes of her life.  
  
“Stephanie.” Bruce’s face is stern but sympathetic, his eyes gazing into her own. “You did good tonight.”  
  
“He nearly died.”  
  
“But he didn’t. You saved his life. And for what it’s worth, I’m proud of you.” Steph can count on one hand the number of times Bruce has said that to her. He puts a hand on her shoulder. “Alfred prepared a room for you upstairs. You look like you could use some sleep.”  
  
Steph shakes her head. “I think I’ll stay here for a while. Just until he wakes up.”  
  
Bruce nods and leaves, his footsteps echoing off the cave walls.  
  
Steph reaches out and grasps one of Tim’s cold hands in her own. His fingertips were pale before, almost blue, but they are slowly returning to their rightful shade. She sighs. _Fuck it._ She leaves the coffee on her chair and climbs into the bed beside Tim, pulling herself close and resting her head on his chest. She can hear his heartbeat under her ear, steady and unfaltering. She closes her eyes.  
  
“Don’t do that again, okay?” she whispers. “Or I’ll resurrect you just to kill you myself.”  
  


**Author's Note:**

> [Feel free to mosey on down to my Tumblr!](http://sohotthateveryonedied.tumblr.com/)


End file.
